


The fire within the Iceman

by Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Ice wanted him from the start, M/M, Mav can’t deny Ice is beautiful, Missing Scene, actions speak louder than words, resolved angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19362445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: There was always an unmistakable heat between them. Maybe before it had sparked, sizzled, they fought it down. Attempted to burn it out.But now, neither can deny that fire.





	The fire within the Iceman

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecarlysutra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/gifts).



_That bastard had chosen the absolute most perfect time to waltz his way in,_ Maverick scoffed to himself. He didn’t turn around but, the distinct tread of those boots spoke volumes as to who had come for him. Who had searched him out, smelt his scent. The scent that radiated failure. Giving up. Quitting.

Maverick still hadn’t turned from his locker, he continued to ruffle his way through, he gathered together his flight suit and kit. Only the bench separated the two of them. That and the presumed icy apathy Maverick refused to dwell on.

“Mitchell…”

Maverick paused. He momentarily studied the voice. It seemed a little, well, not completely frozen over. Weary and unsure. The tone sounded careful; a target lock rang in his head.

“…I’m sorry about Goose.” There was a pause. It felt like an eternity.

Maverick’s hand clutched at his locker, he refrained from burying his face in it at the mention of—  
It seemed so uncharacteristic, that Maverick wasn’t hearing him gloat. The asshole should be showing off, in both his incredibly alluring and frustrating, tension-fuelled way. The sure to be ‘Top Gun’ hadn’t come here to berate Maverick, nor call him a coward.

Or a failure.

He heard a sniff, Maverick considered it a stalling tactic. Either that or it was some pathetic attempt at savouring Maverick’s vulnerable moment. Savouring the fact that they were alone and vulnerable _together_.

“Everybody liked him... I’m sorry.” Maverick decided; the tones were strained. Painful.

Maverick startled, slightly. A hand had come to settle on his right hand, that was still on his locker. It held tight to what felt like the only security in the room. He’d been startled out of his stupor. The cautious hand dropped and he himself, let it go. He turned around, slow and uncertain. Not Maverick like, at all.

There Maverick saw it: the same mystical hazel eyes that were engorged with the same dark dilated pupils- fixed onto him. The luscious, obscene lips that were coated where he’d licked them, his lips had parted. Maverick studied the angles of that face. He embraced every contour: sharp, defined. He embraced every highlight: open, inviting. A bout of jealousy shot through him, he couldn’t form any words. He could only listen to their breaths as they synched up with one another.

Maverick’s not taking the shot.

He trained his tearful eyes on the plush lips that were now moving although he didn’t hear what had fallen from them. He trained his tearful eyes on the curve of the strong jaw opposite him, the way the light gracefully danced its way through the blonde frosted tips, looking like it added definition to the halo.

He caught sight of the long, dexterous fingers that had shot forward to him, that ran up his left arm. He took notice of how the touches, short but prominent, had stirred something within himself.

A spark, or was it pure fire?

The smooth, stable hand caressed Maverick’s cheek, traced patterns slowly across his jaw and up the side of his face. Maverick leaned into it. The hand was full of warmth. It felt so natural, so instinctive. Maverick ground his cheek into the open palm, a gasp slipped from his own lips.

Maverick had surprised himself. He looked up, breaking away. His breaths were stable, not completely controlled. As though he wanted to cry but couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt cautious, nimble fingers grasp at his jawline, angled his head up and pulled him in closer. Maverick’s eyes slid closed, his lips parted and finally, _finally_ their lips locked.

There was always an unmistakable heat between them. Maybe before it had sparked, sizzled, they fought it down. Attempted to burn it out. But now...

They took their time, lips moulded together with purpose, hands trailed over sweaty skin with need. Open mouths, zipped up the dropped moans and escaped gasps.

Maverick was conscious enough that he felt a little panic when skilled and teasing hands skirted lower, they clutched at the front of his jeans. He was conscious enough to question it, but he didn’t fight it. His hips snapped forward and rocked slowly. He could feel his will caving in to that spark. He broke away, took a deal breath. The moaning had become louder and louder. They were more forceful and insistent. They couldn’t be denied.

Another trail of kisses coated Maverick’s face, coated his exposed neck. Hands clawed at his pecs beneath his shirt. Maverick arched into the touch, perking up as those deft hands swiftly rid him of his shirt.

Maverick grabbed those pesky hands, took hold of them and tugged them over to the bench. He sat himself down, ran eager fingers over the front of his jeans and popped open the regulation belt and button.

With a single heavy look, those sweet and torturous fingers finished the job. They fell to the floor. Maverick found himself being pushed up then backwards, hands on his chest, the muted whisper of removed clothing had him smiling. A smile that hadn’t graced his sullen face in a long time.

Maverick ran his hands up gorgeously tanned skin, up the defined pectoral muscles, up to the juncture of where neck met shoulder. He arched himself up, took hold of those full lips again. Slow and steady, enough to tease. Maverick’s  hands trailed back down, he endured  in that throaty moan and sudden shiver from the man above him.

A grin spread across his face as Maverick hauled his weight to push himself up and over. He fixed his eyes on that beautiful and bewildered complexion- at the raised blonde eyebrow. Maverick added trousers and undershirts to the pile of clothing with haste then spread his own muscular form all over the lean and eager body below.

Their dog tags brushed against one another, the metal clinked as Maverick tipped his head down.

And it was that moment, that Maverick realised, with the sudden and ever- growing clarity that Tom Kazansky was truly the most beautiful man he’d ever met. The most beautiful, bewitching and fascinating _person_ , he’d ever set his sights upon. 

Self assured hazel eyes had locked into hungry and willing green ones. Their lips collided again. Hips rocked and buckled in a slow grind, sending shivers up Maverick’s spine.

There was no denying the fire burning within the Iceman. 


End file.
